


I'll Be Your Umbrella

by brokencasbutt67



Series: Good Omens Bingo [11]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Noah's Ark, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29757462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: Fills the square for umbrella of my good omens bingo.initially, I was going to have Crowley singing the song Umbrella, but then I got depressed so I wrote angst.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Bingo [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087919
Kudos: 7





	I'll Be Your Umbrella

Crowley hates rain. It reminds him of the Great Flood. He vividly remembers watching as bodies would float past the ark – women, men, children, it didn’t matter who they were. It was then that Crowley realised that God is a cruel, heartless bastard. He has nightmares, vivid images of the pained faces of the children left to die under the hands of a cruel, merciless God.

Of course, Crowley doesn’t talk about his nightmares. He never spoke of them before he and Aziraphale became official, and he doesn’t talk about much that hurts him anyway.

But Aziraphale has noticed it. He hears it, on a night, when Crowley wakes in a cold sweat with a gasp. He feels how Crowley bolts into an upright position, before wiping his hair back. Aziraphale rolls over to watch as Crowley stumbles out of the bedroom a moment later, making his way to the kitchen to get a glass of wine.

It’s not a healthy ritual, but if it gets Crowley through the night, then Aziraphale won’t stop it. Instead, Aziraphale waits until Crowley slithers back into bed. Aziraphale curls up in Crowley’s arms, and he feels the relief that washes over Crowley as they curl around each other until the sun is rising.

This repeats several times a week, and somehow, it works. Aziraphale is becoming more and more aware of how unhealthy it is though. It all comes to the forefront one night.

Rain is hammering at the bookshop, the wind too. It’s stereotypical British weather – damp, stormy, windy, and horrible. Crowley hasn’t even left the bed. Aziraphale had pondered whether or not to open the bookshop, though eventually he decided against it and he climbed back into the bed with Crowley before it was even noon.

As the day passed, Aziraphale and Crowley shifted around on the bed until eventually, Crowley was laid atop Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale has been stroking his fingers through Crowley’s hair, lulling the demon to sleep. Crowley is on the verge of sleep when a loud crack of thunder changes it. He becomes frantic, Aziraphale can feel the rapid increase in Crowley’s heartbeat.

“Dear…” Aziraphale murmurs. He holds Crowley in his arms, hoping that it calms Crowley.

“Alcohol, angel?” Crowley says, sitting up slightly. He tugs his tee off, tossing it aside. Aziraphale can see the sweat coating Crowley’s chest, it shines under the lamplight.

“No, and Crowley, dear, I don’t think you should either. It’s not a healthy habit, how frequently you’re drinking” Aziraphale says. He sits up, with Crowley sitting beside him.

“Is there something wrong? It seems to be every time there is rain, you wake up in a cold sweat and drink a bottle of wine” Aziraphale comments. Crowley sighs, looking at the carpet beneath his feet.

“I think about it…” He murmurs. Aziraphale frowns, stroking his arm over Crowley’s arm.

“The flood” Crowley clarifies. Aziraphale nods, he too remembers that time. It was horrible – especially being an angel, a servant of God herself. Aziraphale remembers how horrible it was, he can’t imagine how bad it was for Crowley, who was very close with a number of the children and peasants, all of whom died under God’s hand.

“I have this memory, in the back of my head. I was on the ark, with you. I can’t remember what we were talking about, though I suppose that it doesn’t really matter” Crowley continues. Aziraphale holds Crowley’s hand in his own, massaging Crowley’s palm. Crowley smiles at Aziraphale, a sincere smile that’s filled with hurt.

“And I looked over the edge – something compelled me to do so. I just… I saw the body of a child, a peasant girl that I’d seen a few times. Her eyes pierced deep into me, and I knew then that God was fucked up. She wasn’t this holy being that should be worshipped. She was cruel, heartless and a murderer” Crowley adds. Aziraphale lifts his hand to cup Crowley’s cheek. He brushes away a stray tear. Crowley’s eyes are closed as he finishes.

“Since then, the rain reminds me of that time.”

Crowley half expects Aziraphale to laugh, when he says it aloud, it sounds so pathetic.

“Open your eyes, dear. Look at me” Aziraphale says, though it isn’t an order. After a moment, Crowley’s eyes are open. Aziraphale is looking right back at him with a sincerity in his eyes that Crowley hasn’t seen for many years.

“It’s okay. What you went through, the trauma you faced was something that no one should ever have to go through…” Aziraphale says. Crowley nods, glancing away. He flinches slightly, tensing when the rain gets heavier.

“I’ll be your umbrella, Crowley” Aziraphale promises. Crowley lets a small smile onto his face. He presses a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek.

“Thank you” He whispers.

“Perhaps you should get some sleep, my dear. As I understand, you haven’t had much sleep recently” Aziraphale murmurs. Crowley nods, glancing to the bed. Aziraphale lays on his back, watching as Crowley climbs in beside him. Crowley rests his head on Aziraphale’s chest, listening to the repetitive beating of Aziraphale’s heart. It lulls Crowley asleep, and when he feels a pair of wings wrap around him, he feels safe. He falls asleep, and for the first time in a long, long time, he gets a peaceful sleep. The storm rages on outside, but Crowley is calm.


End file.
